without Sasha. Please, tell me of my father,” Legon interjected.
Part of Keither’s mind told him what Legon had said was probably right, and though this made his life harder, perhaps it was better for the world as a whole.
Legon wasn’t affected by the news that Arkin just shared. Somehow he knew it all. He wasn’t sure when he had figured it out but he thought it was when he had been transfigured. The White Dragon had shared a message with him, but he couldn’t remember it. He wanted to know about his father and his mother, but it wasn’t their character that he was worried about. After all, he still viewed his adopted parents as his own. As he asked the question he saw a look of confusion on Sara and Keither’s faces. Sasha was firmly connected with him and she knew what he was looking for.
She was feeling uncomfortable at the moment, having just found out her place in all of this. She had disconnected the weak network she had established with all but him. He sent soothing thoughts to her, reached over and held her hand gently. She in turn gripped his hand harder and he was aware of just how soft her skin was. He felt all of the muscles in her hand contracting and relaxing as she adjusted her grip. There was a steady pulse coming from her. He had never felt someone’s pulse from their hand before, but he did now. He also felt the moisture building from their hands being together, all odd sensations to be having for the first time.
He remembered what Arkin had said about Elf senses and he concentrated on background noise seeing just how diverse it was. He focused on his immediate area, breathing in Sasha’s and his scent. Hers was soft and almost sweet; his was that of the dirt and the horses. He listened to their hearts beating. Arkin was bringing them up to speed about how rare Elf-human children were. He knew this but he waited so the others would understand.
“Now Legon, you wanted to know more about your father. He was an Elf, obviously, and he held a high place in society. He was a good man.”
This wasn’t what Legon was looking for. He put the question to Arkin, knowing the response that it would cause. “Was he ascended?”
Arkin spluttered for a moment. “Why would you ask?”
“If I am to be the destroyer of power, I must have come from good stock, right?”
“You are more than what you were born with.”
“I am aware of that, but there are things that we are born with. So tell me, was he ascended?”
“Yes.”
There was a collective gasp that ran through them. Legon felt oddly saddened by this news. Up to this point he hadn’t been sure what he thought of this prophecy. It seemed to him that if his dad was just a regular Venefica then maybe that’s all he would be after all. But his father was ascended, and that might mean someday Legon would be as well.
No. His mother was human, and surely that would prevent him from that change. Sasha gently ran her thumb over the top of his hand as she held it. She didn’t need the connection to feel his reaction to this news, no matter how expected it was. The others were silent, waiting for Legon to talk. The sun was peeking over the horizon, softening the air. The sky was turning to warm oranges and reds.
“And what class was he?” Legon asked
“Seven,” Arkin responded.
“And how was he killed?” Legon asked in a calm voice.
Arkin shifted as he sat. Legon knew that, as he had earlier, Arkin was attempting to draw strength from the litany.
“His party was ambushed by two dragons and a small ground force. He was in his Elven form when it happened, and even though he transformed it was too late.” Arkin hung his head low, looking at the ground. Sasha and Legon both had the realization at the same time.
Legon asked another question “You were one of his, weren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“And that is why you have taken this matter to heart, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Un Prosa. I am fulfilling my orders that I was left with, but also those of my heart.”
Arkin was much more than a carpenter after all. They were sad for him. He had dedicated his life to a master that was long dead and he had served with such faith and diligence. What was the carpenter going to do now?
Legon wanted to know more. “And when we reach safety and your duties are fulfilled, what will become of you?”
Arkin looked up at him with determination in his face and a fanatic fervor that, in their combined memories, they had never seen before.
“Your father was my Lord. And as I belonged to him, so too shall I belong to you. I am under orders for now, but once those are fulfilled and you are recognized, I will be under your command.”
“You are willing to continue giving your life for us?” Legon asked, for he was giving his life. It was easy to die for a cause or a leader. It only took a moment of time. But to give your life was truly hard because it required a constant sacrifice that few could make.
“Until you have no need for me or I die, yes, I will give,” Arkin said.
Chapter Eighteen
“Most of our lives we feel as if the weight of the world is on our shoulders, though we know it is not. Sometimes, however, it is; so choose wisely.”
The gravity of Arkin’s pronouncement would have to be considered later. Right now Legon knew that Arkin was in command and he didn’t care to challenge it, though clarity of his situation was coming as a result of finding out that he was the one spoken of in the prophecy. The Queen was going to try and secure herself a new kind of slave, despite his thought that it was unlikely that the Iumenta would believe in prophecies. The Queen was intelligent and would see the threat of having the people who resisted her, not to mention her subjects, thinking that their time of deliverance was at hand. But this principle could work in her favor. If she managed to produce the real Everser Vald then it would solidify her control in the empire and weaken the resolve and credibility of the resistance.
Both sides had played a dangerous game. However, the Queen was right to try and capture or kill him. As for the Elves, their play was to see what direction he was going in, then, if need be, take out the threat. With that in mind, he wasn’t sure if Arkin would have been able to do it.
This was a call to arms. He needed to make a choice of what he was to be, but the choice had already been made for him. If he abandoned them to go off on his own, the Queen would gain at least a small victory in that the resistance would have placed hope in a false icon. Still, the resistance would make mistakes, and in so doing would cause suffering and injustice. By standing with them he would be marked with that blood and the blood of those that died in his cause.
There was a pit in his stomach. No matter what choice he made, people would die and there would be suffering. This wasn’t just his decision, he realized. It was Sasha’s as well, and whether he liked it or not she was now just as much a part of this future as he was.
They were getting ready to leave camp. Sasha was busy but he still brushed against her consciousness, looking for her counsel. As they conversed, they agreed that he would make the logical decision and that she would validate its ethics. She hated to do this, but he knew that Arkin wasn’t lying when he said that Sasha was the most pure person he’d met. It wasn’t going to be a choice of whether to join the Iumenta or the Elves, but rather to join the Elves or hide for the rest of their lives. She saw the problems in both, but said that the right thing to do for the
